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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25246267">A Different Kind of Rush</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prospect (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, Kissing, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Reader-Insert, Romance, Roommates, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:53:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,334</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25246267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“This is radio callsign alpha-sierra-two, inquiring about job posting on shuttle station R-Twelve,” you said into your device. “Is the position still open?”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i></i></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>You waited for a minute in dead silence before you heard the line crackle to life. “Hello, alpha-sierra-two,” a thick drawl replied. “Long as you can hold a pickaxe steady, the job’s as good as yours.”</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Reader, Ezra (Prospect 2018)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ever since the rush ended, mining work was somewhat scarce. Most aurelac miners—the ones who didn’t strike it rich, had already squandered away their profits, or ones that worked under flat-rate contract and not profit-share—had been swept up by the large-scale mining companies at the Ephrate.</p>
<p>You, unfortunately, had a falling-out with the head of your crew shortly before the end of the rush, and you were left out in the cold with little more than the clothes on your back and the helmet on your head. </p>
<p>Now you operated alone, picking up what seasonal jobs you could. The ones that payed more tended to be more dangerous—you had a good sense as to which jobs would require you to stash extra knives on your person and demand your own private tent. That demand would often eat into your wages, but it was worth the peace of mind.</p>
<p>You were coming up on the last of your income from last season, which is how you found yourself scouting shuttle stations for work. Most of the bulletins at the larger stations were already picked clean. Now, at one of the smallest stations in the Reach, you hoped against hope you’d find a decent job posting.</p>
<p>Mostly scrap haul jobs—one odd request for a live-in massage therapist, and you knew what <em>that </em>was code for—but when you were about to give up and move on, one last blip on the readout screen caught your eye.</p>
<p>
  <em>seeking experienced miner for short-term contract work (one season). small-scale operation, compensation negotiable. food and board included. helmet must be supplied by employee, O2 freely available. radio callsign alpha-echo-six, will be monitoring channel 07:00 – 23:00 universal time.</em>
</p>
<p>It was contract work, not profit-share, but what the hell. It was the best you had come across in your search so far and you doubted you’d find anything better. Checking the screen, you noted it was nearly 23:00—but you pulled out your radio, entered the posted callsign, and gave it a shot.</p>
<p>“This is radio callsign alpha-sierra-two, inquiring about job posting on shuttle station R-Twelve,” you said into your device. “Is the position still open?”</p>
<p>You waited for a minute in dead silence before you heard the line crackle to life. “Hello, alpha-sierra-two,” a thick drawl replied. “Long as you can hold a pickaxe steady, the job’s as good as yours.”</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>When you met him, the first thing you noticed was the shock of blonde hair. Nobody out in the Reaches had much use for cosmetic hair products, so it must have been a natural occurrence of some sort. It struck you as profoundly odd—but also incredibly attractive. You took a deep breath and swallowed down the nervous lump in your throat.</p>
<p>The second thing you noticed—well. It was a little hard to miss.</p>
<p>“Name’s Ezra,” he said with a sly smile, extending his left—and only—hand.</p>
<p>You weren’t sure which hand you were supposed to shake his with. You decided on your left, to match his. It took some fumbling, but you managed a firm shake in the end. You introduced yourself and then let your hands drop.</p>
<p>“Sorry if that was weird,” you said, “I’m not used to shaking hands with my left.”</p>
<p>Ezra chuckled darkly. “Me neither, sweetheart.”</p>
<p><em>Sweetheart</em>. Normally, you’d hate hearing that come from a man you’d just met. It would’ve felt like a belittlement. But not with this man—it just seemed to roll off his tongue without a second thought.</p>
<p>Then, you realized the implication of his statement. If he wasn’t used to shaking with his left, the loss of his right arm must not have been too long ago. In this line of work, any number of horrors could have caused it. You decided it was best not to dwell on the subject.</p>
<p>“Allow me to escort you to your quarters,” Ezra said, gesturing for you to follow.</p>
<p>He brought you to the only man-made structure within sight. He must have built it himself. He zipped the entryway door shut and clumsily removed his helmet with one hand. You swiftly removed yours, glad to get the sweaty thing off of you for the first time in hours.</p>
<p>The tent was sturdy and spacious enough to feel a little less like a hovel and a little more like a home. It was certainly nicer than most accommodations you’d been given on mining contract work before. There were two beds—well, just cushioned mats on the floor, but definitely an upgrade from a cot—separated by makeshift room divider in the form of a bedsheet tied between two of the tent supports.</p>
<p>“I can fashion a proper partition if you’d prefer,” he said, “the kid was prone to nightmares is all. Didn’t like feelin’ shut off. Took that tent wall down the next day, put the sheet up instead.”</p>
<p>“Kid?” You prompted.</p>
<p>“She’s livin’ in the Ephrate this season,” he said. “Got a scholarship to that fancy Academy an’ everything. Awful proud of her.” You could hear the fondness in his voice.</p>
<p>“That’s nice,” you said,  “she must have a good father.”</p>
<p>Ezra chuckled, the sound tinged with something bitter. “Unfortunately, I do not hold such a grand title,” he said. “Her parents are deceased. I am but her guardian.”</p>
<p>Oh.</p>
<p>“Well, get yourself settled and join me outside when you’re ready,” he said as he went to retrieve his helmet. “It’s not as complicated as aurelac, but it’s still a bitch to mine.”</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>After just a few days of harvesting starstone, you were inclined to agree with Ezra’s statement. It was an absolute bitch. If you so much as tapped it at the wrong angle it would completely lose its integrity. Then, as soon at was harvested, it had to be soaked in a complicated solution of enzymes so it would retain its color—if you waited too long to get it in the enzyme bath, it would turn pale and lose its shimmer. How the hell anyone managed to transport it without massive damages, you had no idea.</p>
<p>You voiced this to him. He simply shrugged. “Not my problem,” he said. “The buyer is arrangin’ her own transport. We just have to hand it off.”</p>
<p>“What is this stuff good for, anyway?” You asked.</p>
<p>“It’s pretty,” he said, “and if there’s one thing I’ve become privy to in all my years of prospectin’, it’s that all sorts of folk will pay a pretty penny for pretty things. ’Specially if those things are rare.”</p>
<p>“There’s no accounting for taste, I guess,” you mumbled, looking at the bright green and orange whorls of glittery stone around the two of you. Ezra snickered at your comment, and the sound of the raspy, almost boyish laughter made your stomach do somersaults.</p>
<p>“I can assume you have no such affinity for pretty things, then,” he said with a grin.</p>
<p>“Well,” you started, looking into those pretty brown eyes of his, “now and I again I might.”</p>
<p>Ezra just arched an eyebrow before returning to sifting through rock.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>You and Ezra fell into an easy rhythm. He would wake up early to prepare the enzyme solutions for the day’s mining. You both mined as long as it stayed light out, going back into the tent as needed for a ration bar or a toilet break or just to rest your weary head for a minute. After dark, it was your responsibility to prep the filters and O2 tanks. As days turned into weeks, you found yourself finally adjusting to the man’s odd manner of speech, and even found yourself laughing at his dry wit.</p>
<p>And if you were honest with yourself, you were harboring quite the crush.</p>
<p>But this was <em>job</em>, damnit, and even if it wasn’t profit-share, Ezra payed far more than any other boss you’d had for contract work. You weren’t going to compromise that. A sexual relationship with someone who was technically your superior was never a good idea—you didn’t want to get yourself kicked off this planet without a full season’s pay.</p>
<p>This dwarf planet’s climate wasn’t as harsh and unforgiving as the Green. The air wasn’t breathable, which is why oxygen tanks and helmets were necessary, but there was nothing like the deadly moon’s dust you remember from the rush days. The one complaint you had: the weather was <em>always</em> hot, some days painfully so, and today was one of those days. You had both decided to cut the workday short and stumbled back to the tent, sweaty and exhausted.</p>
<p>You wrenched your helmet off of your head and immediately planted yourself in front of one of the air circulators. You heard Ezra’s helmet fall to the floor with a <em>clank </em>and several frustrated grunts as he began to unzip his suit. You knew by now not to offer help—even though it took him a long time to dress and undress, it seemed to be a point of pride to him that he do it himself.</p>
<p>You shucked off your own suit, leaving yourself standing in a sleeveless top and shorts. Cooler now, but still utterly worn-out, you all but flung yourself on your cot. You rucked up your shirt so you left as much of your skin exposed to the air as possible without stripping down to your underwear.  “Too fucking hot,” you grumbled.</p>
<p>“Preachin’ to the choir, birdie,” Ezra replied, finally kicking his suit off and out of the way. “Pardon my selfishness, but I’m inclined to take the first shower.”</p>
<p>You groaned, but you had taken the first shower yesterday, so you didn’t protest. Ezra took long showers—you guessed it was because of his arm situation—so you’d have to wait to get all the sweat and grime off. But hey—at least you <em>had </em>a shower. In some of your past gigs you had to wipe yourself down from head to toe with a wet rag.</p>
<p>The shower was attached to the main tent on the east-facing wall: your side of the sheet. Ezra walked by you to access it—he was shirtless, clad only in the pair of black compression pants he wore under his suit. You couldn’t help but sneak a look at him from where you lay—you had come to appreciate the broad expanse of his back and shoulders, his skin kissed all over with fading white scars, the little paunch of his stomach, and the dusting of dark hair that began below his bellybutton and traveled down beneath his waistband. He sighed and stretched before unzipping the partition and shuffling tiredly to the shower.</p>
<p>Seeing him half-naked had lit a spark in your belly. You swallowed thickly, your mind trailing into territory you usually reserved for late at night when Ezra was asleep. Yes, you were attracted to him—but it was more than just a baser instinct. Whenever you got yourself off in the past—or gotten someone <em>else </em>off—it had been quick and quiet and easily forgotten, something to take the edge off, to scratch an itch. You never really fantasized about romance or, Kevva forbid, <em>love</em>, but the longer you spent with Ezra, the more you caught yourself wondering what he would be like as a lover—if he’d hold you gently against his chest after, if he’d press a soft kiss to your forehead, if he’d tell you that you were beautiful.</p>
<p>You scoffed at yourself. Fantasies like that were for naive girls, not for a grown woman, especially not a world-weary miner who knew that men in the Reaches weren’t like that.</p>
<p>But maybe Ezra was different. He was already far different than any man you had ever met.</p>
<p>And maybe you could allow yourself the fantasy.</p>
<p>As you listened to the hum of the shower running, confident in your assertion that Ezra wouldn’t be out for some time—you snaked one hand down under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, rubbing at yourself in the way you usually did—in the way that would make you orgasm quickly. If you drew things out, that just gave your brain time to strike up ridiculous fantasies of Ezra making love to you.</p>
<p><em>Making love</em>. There you go again. Why can’t you just call it <em>fucking</em>? But what you were thinking of wasn’t <em>fucking</em>—would he gaze into your eyes as he filled you? Would he whisper to you how goodyou felt, call you <em>sweetheart </em>like he did the first day you met—and nearly every day since?</p>
<p>Damn it, you said you wouldn’t think about it, but here you were. You rubbed yourself faster, just hoping to get this over with and move the fuck on—</p>
<p>“Shower’s all yours,” you heard Ezra’s voice ring out, and you froze. You didn’t breathe, didn’t move a muscle. How had you not heard the water turn off? How long were you daydreaming?</p>
<p>There was no way Ezra didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t even have the plausible deniability of having a blanket over you. You were <em>so </em>fucked.</p>
<p>You moved your head a tiny fraction to look at Ezra. He had a threadbare towel around his waist, precariously held by a twist-and-tuck at his hip. He was staring at you, wide-eyed and stock-still, as droplets dripped down his forehead from his still-wet hair. You weren’t sure he was even breathing.</p>
<p>Neither of you moved.</p>
<p>Then, Ezra licked his lips, flicking his eyes from your face down to where your hand was still stuck in your shorts, then back to your eyes again. Slowly, deliberately. He quirked an eyebrow at you.</p>
<p>You hitched your hips up a little under his gaze, almost involuntarily. He watched the movement with intensity.</p>
<p><em>Fuck. </em>Was this really happening?</p>
<p>Ezra brought his hand up to his mouth, rubbing at his lower lip with his thumb. He looked to where your hand was trapped between your legs, and gestured with a nod.</p>
<p>With your heartbeat hammering against your chest, you began to move your hand again, eyes locked on Ezra. His breath hitched as he watched you touch yourself, his eyes intent on your body, pupils blown wide and dark.</p>
<p>You rubbed at your clit, your legs tensing as you brought your hips up to press into your hand. Unable to help it, a moan escaped your throat, and Ezra answered back with a low hum of his own.</p>
<p>Hearing him respond to you made your body light up like lightning. You closed your eyes and sucked in frantic bursts of air. The oppressive heat around you was unbearable, the pressure building in your core even more so. Your pulse roared against your eardrums as you frantically worked at your clit, almost sore now, needing to come now more than ever, needing that release—</p>
<p>“<em>Fuck</em>, sweetheart,” Ezra said, and the sound of his voice had you coming hard, thighs shaking. You chased your high as long as you could, clit nearly rubbed raw, until you winced at the overstimulation, dropping your hips back to the bed and letting out a heaving sigh. Almost in a daze, you opened your eyes, chancing a glance at Ezra. He was staring down at you as if he’d seen Kevva’s gates open up before him. He was also visibly tenting his towel, holding onto where it was tied at his hip in a vise-like grip.</p>
<p>“I’m,” you started, catching your breath, “I could use a shower now.”</p>
<p>“As very well could I,” Ezra replied as he shifted his weight back and forth, voice strained, “an’ a cold one at that. But I’d be remiss to waste the water.”</p>
<p>“Sorry,” you mumbled. About the shower or the impromptu peepshow, you weren’t sure.</p>
<p>“Quite alright. But don’t be alarmed if you emerge to find me in a similar position when you’re done in there,” he remarked, gesturing to the shower with a jerk of his head.</p>
<p>You planted your face in your pillow, mortified beyond belief, hot shame washing over you. Ezra simply chuckled.</p>
<p>“No reason to be embarrassed, sweetheart,” he said. “Close quarters make for… <em>sticky</em> situations such as these.”</p>
<p>“Shut <em>up</em>,” you grumbled as you stood up, walking past Ezra to make your way to the shower.</p>
<p>What the <em>fuck </em>just happened?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When you emerged from the shower, you changed into your long sleep shirt (the thing was far too old and ratty at this point to be considered a “nightgown”). Even though it wasn’t dark out yet, you figured you might as well go to bed at the rate this day was going.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As you slowly crept through the tent partition, you noticed that Ezra was gone—and so was his gear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You found a note in Ezra’s barely-legible scrawl placed at the foot of your bed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Starstone quality check,” you mumbled, reading the note aloud.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Starstone was so finicky that it was necessary to check up on it in storage to make sure it maintained its stability. But you knew in your gut he was avoiding you. While he was out, you cleaned the filters and checked the tanks like you always did—minus the filter and tank that Ezra was currently using—the methodical work helping soothe your nerves a little.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Ezra came back in, you were sitting up in bed, reading the book Ezra’s kid Cee had hand-written (<em>“She didn’t come up with the </em><em>story,</em><em> but she basically rewrote the whole damn thing herself. Smarter than she knows, that kid.”</em>). It wasn’t your usual kind of story, and not even your usual medium of consumption (you preferred late-night radio dramas, but they broadcast from the Ephrate—the signal was spotty at best in the Fringes and nonexistent here in the Reach), but it was captivating nonetheless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You didn’t look up from the book as Ezra walked in. Neither of you said a word.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Part of you was relieved that you didn’t talk about it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The other part of you was<em> desperate</em>to talk about it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>–</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next morning, you woke to Ezra sitting at his makeshift desk—a chair set in front of an old wooden shipping crate—swirling together the starstone enzyme bath. He was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a gray t-shirt, his hair already matted with perspiration from the heat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You grumbled and slowly sat up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mornin’, sunshine,” Ezra said, not lifting his eyes from his work.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mmph,” was your sleepy response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oats are ready if you have a hankering,” he continued, gesturing with his head towards the “kitchen”—another wooden shipping crate, this one with a battery-operated stove placed on top.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You were suddenly <em>very </em>awake at the promise of food. “Please tell me there’s coffee, too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Haven’t made it yet,” he replied. “Go easy on the stuff, you’ve drunk near all my supply.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I believe food and board is included in my contract.” You yawned before shuffling your way over to the stove.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Food </em>and board, sweetheart, not drink.” Ezra held the canister of freshly mixed enzyme solution between his knees as he twisted on the cap with his hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Your stomach rumbled and you eagerly grabbed your bowl of oatmeal. After wolfing down your breakfast, you filled Ezra’s rickety kettle with water and set it on the stove, turning the power up to high. You pawed around the mismatched collection of canteens piled next to the stove until you found two clean ones and set them out, along with four packets of powdered coffee (three for you, one for Ezra). It was the instant stuff anyone could grab for cheap at a shuttle station, and it tasted wretched, but it did its job.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As you waited for the water to boil—not long when the water in storage was already warm thanks to this planet’s heat—You heard Ezra stand up and approach you. When you felt his hand brush the small of your back, you shivered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra huffed. “Are you <em>cold</em>? For cryin’ out loud, woman, it’s hotter’n two channel-rats fuckin’ in a wool sock.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Must be caffeine withdrawal,” you lied, knowing full well it was Ezra’s touch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He rubbed his thumb back and forth and you nearly shivered again. “I suppose it’s high time I replenish our supplies,” he said, “lest you pillage the remainder of my coffee.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When the kettle began to whistle, you switched off the stove and poured equal amounts of hot water into the cups—and unequal amounts of coffee packets. All the while, Ezra’s hand stayed on your back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Speaking of supplies, we could use another full O2 tank,” you said, trying your best to ignore how your stomach did somersaults every time Ezra absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against the material of your sleep shirt, “and coolant for the air circulators.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m well aware,” Ezra said, “but thank you kindly for the reminder.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You offered Ezra his canteen of coffee. You mourned the loss of his hand on your back, but feeling the brush of his fingers against yours as you handed him his cup was nearly as electrifying.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“S’posin’ we pull a good haul of starstone today, I can ready the pod for the shuttle station tomorrow,” he said between sips. “Be back within a couple days’ time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You swallowed down a lump in your throat along with your coffee. You did need supplies, but it was hardly urgent—was he really that keen on avoiding you? But the way he just touched your back—he’d never been more intimate than friendly pats on the shoulder before—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The shuttle station gets a clearer radio signal to the Ephrate,” Ezra continued, “I can have a good an’ proper talk with Cee.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Oh</em>. He wants to talk to his kid, you moron. Why did you make this about yourself and your ill-timed masturbatory ventures?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll hold down the fort, then,” you said between gulps of your coffee.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m countin’ on it,” Ezra said. “Now let’s score some stone afore this bitch of a planet bakes us alive.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra was gone before you woke, but you had expected it. He told you as much last night. But you still couldn’t shake the notion that he was avoiding you. You sighed deeply before untangling yourself from the bedsheets and crawling over to make your morning coffee.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On the table, the kettle was already set out on the stovetop, along with three coffee packets, a clean canteen, and a note from Ezra.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Radio at 21:00,” you mumbled. That was tonight—so he was planning to call you as soon as he got in. You couldn’t help but smile as you made your coffee.</p>
<p>You didn’t have to mine today or tomorrow, thanks to working double-time yesterday (and your aching muscles certainly reminded you of that), but there was still plenty to do around the tent. After gulping down your coffee, you started with the pile of laundry in the corner. It was the most urgent order of business, based on how it was beginning to climb up the wall—and how much it stunk. You filled a basin with water and soap and got to work.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>While hanging the garments to dry, you noticed a pair of Ezra’s compression pants had a tear in the thigh—thankfully, it was on a side seam, so you could easily sew it shut. You noted to fix it as soon as it was finished drying. You wondered if you could mend anything else, noting Ezra’s ratty assortment of boxers and briefs. If he made any cash in the aurelac rush, he certainly didn’t spend any of it on underwear. You could mend holes, but you couldn’t work miracles.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As you waited for the clothes to dry, you snacked on a ration bar and read more of Cee’s book. You were invested in the characters now, despite your initial skepticism of the subject matter. You had to admit, it was a bit of a page-turner. After a while, you didn’t want to put it down. You moved from sitting at Ezra’s desk to leaning against one of the tent supports to laying on your bed mat, your eyes glued to the page.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When you finally came to a satisfying enough chapter to pause your reading, you looked around for a piece of scrap paper to mark your place. You picked up Ezra’s note and tucked it inside the pages before shutting the book. You noticed the laundry hanging up was dry—had you really been reading that long? Oh well. Time to get mending.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You had mended Ezra’s pants, a pair of his socks, and were about to sew a button back on the pocket of your suit when you heard your name crackle from the radio headset in the corner. Startled, you dropped your work, the button skittering across the floor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Gimme a minute!” You shouted, hoping your headset would pick it up from across the tent. You quickly found the runaway button and placed it on Ezra’s desk before scrambling to your side of the tent to put on your headset.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry about that,” you said, “I’m here. You get in okay?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“All in one piece,” came Ezra’s voice in your ear, “give or take an arm.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You rolled your eyes at Ezra’s wisecrack. “Talk to Cee yet?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not yet,” Ezra said, “with the time difference between here and the Ephrate, she’s still in class. I shan’t interrupt her studies.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You looked at the book where it lay on Ezra’s desk and smiled. “Well, when you call her, tell her I said hello.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Will do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, what station did you end up at?” You asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Trinity,” Ezra replied.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Trinity,” you said, “don’t think I’ve been on Trinity since the rush.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ain’t any different,” Ezra said, “still got egregious docking fees and an abundance of unpleasant company.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Already shooed away a pick-pocket busker, haven’t you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Several,” Ezra grumbled, “Damn this stump, they think I’m an easy target.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Were any of them good players, at least?” You asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Truthfully, the boy on the panpipes was a talented little devil,” he said, “both in playing his instrument and his victims. I let him pilfer a coin from my pocket—I fancy myself a patron of the arts.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You snorted. “You keep coin in your <em>pocket</em>? On Trinity?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sweetheart, it’s the decoy cash,” Ezra explained. “You keep a couple low-credit coin in your pocket for the vandals so that they don’t go scroungin’ for the heavy-hittin’ gems in your suit lining.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Speaking of your suit lining,” you said, “I’ve been doing some mending.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You heard Ezra’s raspy laugh through your headset. “Don’t suppose you’ve been sewin’ up my underthings.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Those are hopeless,” you remarked, “I meant your spare compression pants.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah!” Ezra said. “I do recall those had a rip in ’em. I was fixin’ to fix those.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I figured I’d do it as long as I had the time,” you said. “Also darned a pair of your socks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you anglin’ for a raise?” You could hear the smile in Ezra’s voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your listing <em>did </em>say ‘compensation negotiable,’” you replied.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hmm. That it did,” Ezra said. “Perhaps we shall negotiate upon my return.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The radio line lay silent for a moment, and you felt a nervous pang in your stomach. Enough small talk. You needed to say <em>something </em>about what happened the other day—even if it was just to apologize.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ezra?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, sweetheart?” He replied.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is everything… Okay? With us?” You asked, trying to suppress the anxiety in your voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why wouldn’t it be?” Ezra replied, before quickly adding in lowered tone, “Did somethin’… <em>rub</em> you the wrong way?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kevva help me,” you grumbled, feeling the wave embarrassment crawl up your spine. “I’m so sorry, Ezra. It won’t happen again.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stop apologizin’. There ain’t a thing wrong indulgin’ in a little well-earned self-pleasure.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The way he said <em>pleasure </em>made your breath hitch. You hoped like hell it didn’t pick up on the radio.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If there’s one thing I’ve come to realize in my years,” he said, “is that there’s no use feelin’ shame in feelin’ good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His voice was smooth and deliberate now. That bastard knew <em>exactly </em>what he was doing to you. “So don’t you stop yourself because of me—truthfully, I don’t mind. Not one bit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hesitantly, you reached down to press the heel of your hand against your clit, choking back a moan threatening to escape your throat—but not entirely succeeding.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You heard Ezra’s breath coming loud and heavy through the radio. “Are you touchin’ yourself right now, sweetheart?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Yes</em>,” you gasped out, your previous inhibitions completely shattered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” Ezra replied. “Thank Kevva this radio headset is hands-free.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You heard what might have been Ezra undoing his zipper—and your suspicions were confirmed when you heard a low moan through the radio.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Ezra—</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you have the faintest idea what you do to me, woman?” The line swelled with static and the throaty rasp of Ezra’s voice. “Told myself not to—<em>made</em> myself not think of you like that. It ain’t proper. But when you—you let me <em>watch—</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You whined and slid your hand beneath your underwear. “I was thinking of <em>you</em>,” you confessed, “always thinking of you—”</p>
<p>“It’s a cryin’ shame,” Ezra said, “all I’ve got is spit-slick and a weak hand wishin’ like hell it was you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You sped up the pace of your fingers as he continued.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you were here,” he said, “I’d bury myself inside you so deep—ah, <em>fuck</em><em>—</em>’til you were the only thing I could feel.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At his words, you slid two fingers inside yourself up to the knuckle, arching your hips, trying to get them as deep as they could go, thumb tirelessly working at your clit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I want that,” you panted, “I want <em>you</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“—Make you come on my cock again and again ’til you’re dizzy with it,” he said, “fuck you so hard you feel it the next day.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra’s words were pushing you close to the edge. “Ezra, I’m gonna—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do it,” he groaned, “let me hear you, sweetheart.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You came to the overwhelming sound of Ezra’s broken moans and your own desperate cries and the static of the radio and the beating of your heart—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>a discordant symphony of absolute ecstasy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra returned the following night with a full pod of supplies. You worked together like a well-oiled machine, moving various goods from the pod to the tent in an orderly fashion. You both made small talk—Cee was doing well at the Academy, the shuttle station shop was stocked enough with what they needed, no, they didn’t have real coffee, just the shit stuff in packets.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Despite the friendly conversation, the air was thick with unspoken words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was hot out—as it always was on this planet—so you breathed a huge sigh of relief when you had both moved all the supplies to the tent and you could leave the sweaty pod. You both discarded your helmets and stood in front of the air circulator on Ezra’s side of the tent, sifting through the supplies and placing them where they belonged throughout the tent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When you reached at the same time as Ezra for a can of coolant, your hands collided, sending a shockwave up your arm and stopping your breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You both froze, staring at your hands where they met.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Slowly, carefully, Ezra intertwined your fingers with his.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hello, sweetheart,” he whispered, those beautiful brown eyes of his gazing at you tenderly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You couldn’t take it anymore—you climbed over the pile of supplies between you and pressed your lips to his.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He let out a surprised little noise against your mouth before returning the kiss with fervor, wrapping his arm tightly around you and pressing you close to his chest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Couldn’t—stop—thinkin’ of you,” he said between kisses.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you want to—can we—” You gasped against his mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Yes</em>,” he breathed, scrambling to work at the zips and fasteners on his suit. He didn’t object when you reached out to help remove the suit—and honestly, you weren’t thinking of it as <em>help</em><em>ing </em>him, more like getting all your clothes off as fast as possible because holy <em>shit </em>this was happening. Ezra had already removed his boots when he took his helmet off earlier, and you were only dressed in your undershirt and shorts, so this blasted contraption of a suit was the main obstacle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You both managed to get the damn thing off and Ezra kicked it aside. He reached back, grabbing his sweaty t-shirt behind the collar to tug it over his head. You grasped the hem of your top and pulled it up and off, throwing it to the growing pile of discarded clothing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You were about to strip off your shorts when Ezra reached for you again, kissing your mouth, your jaw, your neck, down to the tops of your breasts along the edge of your bra. You scrambled to unclasp it, letting it fall to the floor. Ezra wasted no time, cupping a breast in his hand and lavishing kisses on the other. When you felt the wet heat of his tongue against your nipple, you cried out, grabbing his hair and giving it a tug. He moaned against your breast before pulling away to look at you.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let’s take this to a bed,” you urged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra nodded vigorously in agreement and you both stumbled over to his bed mat, falling atop the sheets in a tangle of limbs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra sat up and you situated yourself on his lap, wrapping your legs around him. You could kiss him like this for hours, his tongue in your mouth, your fingers in his hair, his hand steady and warm on your back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When you both took a moment to catch your breath, Ezra cleared his throat and looked you in the eye, his expression almost timid.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I must confess, I have not had the chance to… partake, since I lost my arm,” he said. “I may not be as formidable a sparrin’ partner as I once was.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ezra, I’m sure it doesn’t matter,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. He stopped you with a press of a finger to your lips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Allow me to enlighten you.” He shrugged with his stump. “Nothin’s as it once was. I can’t even take a piss the same way. Ever try to hold a dick with a hand that ain’t there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can’t say I have,” you said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, hush, birdie, you can understand the sentiment,” Ezra grumbled. “Everything is at the behest of my damned weak hand. I can’t read my own handwriting anymore. Can’t shoot like I used to—my grip’s shit on the left. Even gettin’ dressed is harder than minin’ aurelac.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair before continuing. “And as long as we’re on the subject of minin’, I can no longer mine most things on my lonesome. Each harvest is hardly half of my previous yields, and I got the kid to support on top of everything. Now, Cee deserves every bit of that support, do not misunderstand my words—I would move Kevva and earth for that girl. But such meager wages do tend to make one feel… inadequate. A man’s work is no petty thing.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You listened to Ezra attentively, not knowing how you could get it across to him that he was no less of a man in your eyes than if he had two arms. You wanted to reassure him, but he pressed on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So please, allow me to posit this caveat,”  he said, “that I intend to make love to you, and to do so to the fullest of my capabilities—but even my best efforts may prove… unsatisfactory.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Make love</em>. Ezra wanted to <em>make love</em> to you. Your heart stuttered in your chest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You were so stunned by Ezra’s choice of vocabulary that it took you a moment to process what he said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh,” you said. “You don’t think you can make me come.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra ducked his head; you could have sworn he was blushing. “You always cut right to the quick.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You cupped his cheek, running your thumb along the little white scar there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ezra, I don’t care. I just want this. With you.” You glanced down to where you straddled his lap, rolling your hips a little against his growing arousal. “And forgive me if I’m assuming things, but it seems like you want it, too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra moaned quietly at your movements. “My desire was never in question, I assure you,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You leaned in and kissed him softly. He returned the kiss before gently moving you off his lap.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lie down, sweetheart,” he whispered, and you eagerly obliged, reclining on the mattress. He settled on top of you, propping himself up on his elbow, kissing you passionately. Eager to get your hands on him, you hooked a finger under his waistband and gave a tug.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Whoa there,” Ezra said, “slow down, spitfire.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You moved your hand away. “What’s wrong?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nothin’, believe me. But those clever hands of yours will have to wait, because I’ve been starvin’ for you,” he said with a sly grin, kissing a path down your breasts to your stomach, “and I can no longer deny myself a taste.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took a moment for your Ezra Translator to kick in. “<em>Oh</em>.” You scrambled to shimmy your shorts and underwear down. Ezra took over, pulling them all the way off and tossing them over his shoulder before leaning down to continue his trail of kisses.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He nudged at your thigh with his head and you eagerly opened your legs for him. Rough stubble tickled your thighs as he kissed his way to your cunt. At the first feeling of his hot breath against your clit, your hips jumped up out of their own volition, knocking Ezra off his left elbow and face-planting him onto the bed beneath you.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry!” You squeaked. You reached out to steady him but stopped yourself—you knew he hated being helped.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hell’s bells,” Ezra grunted. He gripped at the sheets with his hand as he slowly pushed himself to sit upright.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Left arm ain’t worth shit,” he grumbled under his breath, “can’t even hold me up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s alright, Ezra,” you said, “we can try again.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Indeed we can,” Ezra said. He lay down on his back next to you and motioned to his chin. “Take a seat, sweetheart.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Um,” you started. You’d done this before, but not like <em>that</em>. “I don’t want to—hurt you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kevva’s sake, woman, I ain’t gonna break,” Ezra said, then added with a grin, “if I suffocate on account of your cunt, I will embrace death with open arms. Well, one of ’em, anyway.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, shut up,” you said with a groan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Here lies Ezra, drowned in pussy,” he continued teasing, eyeing you with a wicked grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You hesitantly shuffled toward him. Drumming up some courage, you knelt above him, one knee on either side of his head. You were so nervous that you could hear your pulse roaring in your ears.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Whether impatient or just eager, Ezra grabbed you by the hip, then, and urged you down onto his mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You gasped, bracing yourself as you felt the white-hot warmth of his tongue against your cunt. You choked back a moan, your hips stuttering forward, trying not to grind down too hard on his face. Ezra was having none of that. He urged you to move, his hand gripping your hip and firmly pulling you forward. With a little more certainty, you rocked your hips forward and back, making his tongue slide against your clit in long strokes. You moaned again, louder this time, and Ezra hummed his desperate response, burying his face in your pussy like a man starving.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You rutted against him urgently, your thighs beginning to burn from holding yourself up over him. Your movements became less graceful, more desperate—you slid forward too far, causing your slit to grind against the bridge of his nose, and you’d be embarrassed if didn’t feel so damn good. You were right on the precipice, moments away from shaking apart, when Ezra stilled your hips with his hand and brought you back to his tongue. He latched his mouth over your clit and sucked on it, wet and sloppy and fucking <em>perfect</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Fuck</em>, Ezra,” you gasped, the heat coiling inside you tighter and tighter, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra <em>growled</em>, his teeth grazing your clit for a moment, and the jolt of sensation just on the right edge of pain had you coming so hard you thought you might black out. You stumbled forward, reaching out to break your fall, your cunt pulling away from his mouth. Somehow, Ezra knew you needed more, reaching behind his head for you and guiding you back in place with his hand. He began to lap at you again, working you through another shaking shockwave of pleasure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You had to pull away before it was too much. You collapsed next to Ezra on the too-small mattress, trying to catch your breath, feeling your thighs burn and your cunt twitch and your heart sing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Give me a minute,” you gasped.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Take all the time you need, sweetheart,” Ezra said, equally breathless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You turned to look at Ezra. His face was flushed red, beads of sweat dripping down to mix with your slick that had ended up all over his mouth and chin—and his <em>nose</em>. He looked absolutely <em>filthy</em> and you’d be mortified if he didn’t look so damn pleased with himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You reached for your discarded t-shirt and gently wiped at his face, cleaning up the most offensive wet patches before tossing it aside again. “Sorry,” you said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra chuckled. “I do not accept your apology, ma’am,” he teased. “That was sexier than hittin’ a motherlode of aurelac.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Now that’s high praise,” you teased back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“C’mere and kiss me,” he all but whispered, reaching out to hold your chin between his thumb and index finger. You closed the distance and pressed your lips against his. It was almost chaste—if not for the knowledge of where that mouth had just been.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed deeply, absentmindedly playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You looked down at the straining bulge in his pants, snaking your hand down to stroke at him through the fabric. A little choked moan tumbled from his throat at your touch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let’s take this off,” you said, thumbing the waistband. He nodded in agreement, laying on his back and lifting his hips so you could pull his pants down and off in short order. His cock sprang free, hard and aching.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You licked your lips. “No underwear?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Too fuckin’ hot for underwear,” he said, gasping when you gently rested your hand on the crease where his thigh met his hip.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You moved your hand up and down his thigh, making him squirm and thrust up against nothing but air. He practically <em>whined</em>, his hand clawing at the sheets.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Touch </em>me,” he begged, voice cracking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I <em>am </em>touching you,” you said with a wolfish grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Damn it, woman,” he groaned, “if the heat don’t kill me, you sure as shit will have the pleasure yourself.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Patience,” you chided, not sure how long you could keep this up—you wanted him inside you, and you wanted him <em>now</em>—but you loved seeing him spread out and desperate for you.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, you wrapped your hand around him and gave a long, firm stroke. He threw his head back and moaned, arching into your touch. You licked your lips as you studied his cock, the thick length of it twitching ever so slightly in your hand. You rubbed at the underside of the head with your thumb and your mouth watered when a bead of precome welled up at the tip. On instinct, you moved down to lick it off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra cursed, bucking up to meet your mouth. You held him down by the hip before taking him into your mouth as far as you could.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, <em>sweetheart</em>—I—<em>fuck</em>!” Ezra cried out, clawing at the sheets with his hand, writhing against your hand where it held him down. When you tentatively reached down to gently squeeze his balls, he nearly <em>sobbed</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m gonna—” Ezra gasped.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You pulled your mouth off of him, then, replacing it with your hand, not moving, just holding him at the base.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hold on, I didn’t say stop,” he said with a breathless chuckle. “Everything alright?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I want you inside me,” you whispered, barely audible.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra reached out to still your movements. “I don’t have protection, sweetheart,” he said, voice strained.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You bit your bottom lip, averting Ezra’s gaze for a moment. “I have the implant,” you said, looking him in the eye again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra’s eyebrow shot up. “Well, shit, woman,” he said. “Thought they only had those fancy contraptions in the Ephrate.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They do,” you said. “I did have some decent money, once. In the rush. Before my crew took it all and left.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You and I have trod similar paths, so it would seem,” Ezra said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The rush left a lot of us in the dust,” you said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra nodded. “The deadliest dust there is.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a long moment, he sat up to kiss you, just a gentle press of lips. You put your arms around him and closed your eyes, breathing with him for a moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How do you want to—which way should we—” you stumbled over your words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You may have me whichever way you desire,” Ezra said, voice low in your ear, “and I will do my darnedest to provide.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can—can you be on top?” You started, “I mean—I will if it’s easier, but my thighs are kind of killing me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra chuckled, and you thrilled at the vibration of it against your chest. “Lay back,” he said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You complied, laying down on the bed mat. He reached behind you to grab the pillow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lift up that pretty ass of yours for me,” he said, and you did. Kneeling before you, he placed the pillow under your hips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Reckon my knees will hold me up longer than my arm,” he said, gripping your hip to tug you towards him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Guess both our thighs will be burning tonight,” you said with a sly smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Worth every ache,” he replied, taking himself in hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He slowly rubbed at your slit with the head of his cock. You moaned, your cunt clenching against thin air as you felt wetness dribble down. Ezra dragged his cockhead through the slick, gathering it before rubbing at your clit directly. You gasped at the jolt of pleasure lighting up your body—it felt so good you could cry. You could hardly stand the teasing anymore, wanting him inside you now more than ever.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ezra, <em>please</em>,” you begged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At your urging, he lined himself up and slid inside you with one deliberate movement. The sensation of his thick cock filling you up, the almost-aching stretch of it—it was better than you ever imagined. He grabbed you by the hip again to pull you even closer as he began to thrust into you at a steady pace.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look at you,” Ezra said, his voice gravelly and low, “takin’ my cock like it was made for you. Shoulda known you’d feel this good, sweetheart.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ezra,” you panted, “<em>Ezra</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You looked up at Ezra as he filled you completely—from his pupils blown wide and his lips slightly parted, to the broad expanse of his shoulders, to the torso adorned with freckles and scars, to—<em>fuck</em>, where his cock was seated deep in your cunt—he was more beautiful than any gemstone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You could tell Ezra was trying to control the pace of his thrusts, biting his lip in concentration. You didn’t want him to hold back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Harder</em>,” you breathed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I ain’t gonna last,” Ezra said through gritted teeth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t care!” You cried out, clenching down on him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Fuck!</em>” Ezra leaned forward and braced himself against the bed, arm trembling with the effort as he set a brutal pace, fucking into you hard and deep and unrelenting. You nearly <em>screamed</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” Ezra’s voice was frantic and loud, “come for me, please, <em>please</em>, <em>fuck</em>!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You rubbed your clit for hardly a moment before you shook apart, your cunt spasming around his cock, your body consumed in flames of pleasure so intense you could hardly breathe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra managed a few more thrusts before he came with a shout, his cock inside you as deep as it could go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the aftermath, Ezra collapsed beside you, absolutely exhausted. You turned your head to kiss him, lazy and slow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If it’s alright with you,” he said, his breath warm and close, “I’m inclined to take the day off tomorrow.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re sure going to be sore,” you sighed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, yes,” he agreed, “but I’m keen on more…sparrin’ practice.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You can say <em>sex</em>, you know,” you laughed, “not everything has to be a metaphor.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra smiled. “I do have an inclination to run my mouth, don’t I.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra just rolled his eyes before taking your hand in his, your fingers twining together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I just realized,” you said, looking over at Ezra’s desk, “I could’ve sat on that chair instead of your face. Would’ve made things easier.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra’s eyes widened a fraction, looking over at the chair, then back to you.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why didn’t I think of that? I am dumber than a box of rocks,” he said with a chuckle. “But I do believe my method is superior.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ll have to test your theory,” you said. “Do some serious research.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ezra nodded eagerly before setting a steely expression with a furrowed brow. “Of course.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>listen. all the scifi sex I write will conveniently make use of “the implant” purely so they can raw-dog it. also like where tf is ezra gonna go buy space condoms. this is set in the fringes of the galaxy. it’s not like he can pop over to space cvs and get some cosmic cock wrappers for his magnum dong. (...they don’t carry them at the shuttle station, okay?)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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